


helter skelter

by serein (koshitsu_kamira)



Series: Headspace [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Casual Sex, Developing Relationship, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 06:25:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9588539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koshitsu_kamira/pseuds/serein
Summary: Yuta comes and goes like the tide. Taeil is a coward.





	

Playing the game 21 questions was among the most unlikely activities Taeil had expected to experience on a typical Saturday evening while attending university, yet he was undoubtedly staring at Yuta who kept shuffling the handwritten cue cards spread atop the comforter, looking strangely intense for such an innocuous action, determination painted across his face. Taeil suspected the younger’s agitation possibly stemmed from the half-sentence that had slipped out his mouth last week, after their regular sessions which usually lasted an hour and entailed hastily worn condoms, fingers sticky with lubricant and screams muffled against the pillow or Yuta’s shoulder, then ended in bliss weighing down their limbs, a hazy afterglow enveloping them. Taeil remembered chuckling as a notion occurred him, the sound hoarse, a little bitter, raspy, “ _ come to think of it, we don’t really know each other, _ ” he declared into the static buzzing within their ears, the urge to laugh suddenly attacking him despite the less than humorous quality of the statement; beside him, Yuta tensed but ultimately didn’t make a remark, like he knew all effort was futile.

Taeil couldn’t recall, pinpoint the exact moment when their arrangement started, the events leading to the present situation having lost in the string of freshmen parties, nonsensical drinking games and empty soju bottles: the only distinct memory he possessed featured Yuta glowing in the pale morning light, whispering a quiet “ _ fuck me good,”  _ before lowering himself on the elder’s hard length. The rest was drowned out by the other boy’s low whimpers, the mattress squeaking rhythmically to the pace he dictated, the tempo Taeil followed, hips pistoning upward and into the boy’s warmth, completely helpless, caught in a perfect storm where all he could do was hold on, grip Yuta’s waist with a desperation that would leave fingertip shaped bruises over the skin. “ _ Harder, _ ” the younger demanded, voice rough, his grasp around Taeil’s wrists bordering painful as he pressed down insistently, knocking the breath out of his partner; teeth gritted, sight flickering, the other continued thrusting inside the boy until his last moan broke off on an abrupt hiccup and Yuta spilled white above the sheets, collapsing boneless afterwards.

The next day, Yuta greeted the upperclassman the same distant way casual acquaintances did, who shared too many friends to ignore a face they frequently came across, then kept on walking, disinterested glance sliding past Taeil without any hesitation or lingering uncertainty -  _ another one-night stand _ , the elder concluded, hitching the backpack higher, and moved off. Never would he have predicted Yuta shoving him against the wall of a stranger’s bedroom barely two weeks later, muttering the words “ _ I want you _ ” along Taeil’s neck, agile hands sneaking under fabric, to which the older boy nodded mutely, knees subsequently hitting the floor, cheeks flushed red while the other regarded his clumsy movements with dark, covetous eyes. “ _ Open up, _ ” the younger mumbled, skinny jeans, underwear pushed beyond mid-thighs, the tip of his cock smearing precum on Taeil’s mouth, the clear liquid seeping through lips ajar, and carefully began to nudge the other toward his crotch, palms applying a steady pressure once he was granted permission; “ _ you are doing good _ ,” Yuta praised, breathing uneven. Eventually, Taeil found himself pinned down on an unfamiliar bed, wheezing out loud as the younger boy sank into his body, inch by slow inch, the initial discomfort merging with sheer pleasure, a bewildering combination that stole the remnants of his sanity, throwing every senses off-course, akin to drowning in deep water, brine pervading his windpipe, lungs.

Cold sheets roused Taeil from unconsciousness at dawn, the comforter having slid off his shoulders during the night, the slight crease in the linen sheets the lonely indication of a person who had left ahead sunrise; gathering his clothes, then quickly sliding them on, he escaped the silent apartment, cautiously sidestepping comatose people, beer cans and dirty shot glasses. Thankfully, his landlord wasn’t around to witness the walk of shame, the limp glaringly obvious in his gait, shirt rumpled, hair matted, disheveled; fishing the key out from his back pocket, Taeil finally entered the apartment, making a beeline for the kitchen so he could take some fast-acting painkiller that would help relieve sore muscles and body aches - collapsing face-first in the bed afterwards, he welcomed oblivion.

Despite the absence of promises, Yuta somehow managed to find the older boy at every other party, the odd places he had visited on a whim, the two inevitably winding up in a secluded corner or an empty room where nobody could see the frenzy settling over them, hastening their motions until they both clawed at each other’s attire blindly, fueled by a peculiar madness. Slowly, the shadowy niches became a gasped out “ _ your place or mine, _ ” which after a while transitioned into the routine of Yuta showing up without previous notice, bearing complimentary gifts: condom and lube packets, sometimes discounted alcoholic beverages; the day following the winter break, Taeil grabbed a permanent marker, resignedly scribbling the entrance code on the other’s forearm. “ _ I’m tired of opening the door for you, _ ” he reasoned later when Yuta emerged from the shower, thumbing the numbers in puzzlement, a surprised grin flashing across his face instead the haughty smirks, pretentious simpers Taeil associated with the younger man, “ _ you won’t regret it, _ ” the boy said, laughter dancing within his irises and the other scoffed, “ _ perhaps, I already do. _ ”

Generally speaking, Yuta had a decent sense of timing, aside from the few occasions he crashed at the flat through the midterms, hogging the covers, eating all the food inside the fridge, also scattering notes everywhere; meaning Taeil managed to dodge awkward introductions, offering white lies to suspicious friends, or people interrupting their less than innocent quasi-dates. Outside the hookups, he didn’t wonder about the other boy, nor did he imagine the scenes of Yuta’s everyday life, contemplating whether there was a love interest in the picture - Taeil was simply contented with the opportunity to spread Yuta atop lecture printouts, grayscale diagrams, tug on sweat dampened auburn tresses as he pounded the younger against the desk, the wood creaking obnoxiously under their combined weight.

Taeil couldn’t tell when effervescent bliss, the warmth of Yuta’s body, his scent lingering on the pillowcase had ceased to be enough, stopped fending off the loneliness that was almost a second skin; neither could he determine the point after which the stays became longer, more words were exchanged rather than raw touches, although he still woke to a wet mouth around his cock. Sleeping in the pullovers Yuta had left behind, keeping another toothbrush in the bathroom, picking up the younger’s favourite snacks at the grocery store were habits Taeil had acquired unaware, oblivious until his mightily amused best friend, Youngho broached the subject - “ _ I see why you’re so busy nowadays _ ,” he commented, wide eyes twinkling knowingly.

Derisive, Taeil laughed, wishing Youngho’s playful assumption was true, contrary to the actual state of affairs, where calling whatever they shared a relationship even seemed like a stretch, despite the time spent together, the increasing frequency of their meetings that gradually verged on a daily basis: Yuta came and go as the tide would, steady, yet unpredictable by nature. In comparison, Taeil resembled a cliff, unable to move along, quiescently letting the water chip away the tiny pieces of what had remained, the kind of fool people easily stepped over; while he hoped Yuta would prove his suspicions wrong, the alternative was a constant nagging at his mind, causing him toss and turn throughout the night, thoughts churning, relentless. The unanswered questions the younger’s candid smile had failed to quell accompanied Taeil into the daylight, leaving the faintest blue tinge just beyond the surface level of his neutral expressions, a facade which crumbled with each fleeting moment, for they were long past the stage when actions could sufficiently convey intentions, a fact he and Yuta both had acknowledged, but ultimately took the coward’s way out.

“ _ We don’t really know each other _ ,” Taeil had said, placing the ball in Yuta’s court, except they were familiar to the personality quirks and mannerisms which distinguished them from the many acquaintances whose faces looked like strangers’ in surreal dreams; so lying motionless, they let the half-truth drift above, glide through the open windows, then dissolve within the smog. Later that day, Yuta hovered on the doorstep, uncharacteristically awkward, clearing his throat as if to break the silence or make a rash promise he couldn’t possibly keep, meanwhile Taeil waited, vacillating between cowardice and bravery, calculating the losses he would suffer notwithstanding the decision - “ _ take care _ ,” he eventually muttered, before sending the younger off. 

He hadn’t foreseen the same boy intruding on his Saturday evening rituals, carrying flip cards and dozens of carefully picked questions, attentive stare fixed upon Taeil’s skittish gaze; briefly, the elder had considered tumbling him into the sheets, lead them back to the beaten path, only Yuta interrupted the train of thoughts: “Do you love me?” he asked, completely earnest, red climbing up his neck. Breath stuck, for a second Taeil listened to his accelerating heartbeat, the rustle of the younger fidgeting, nervousness apparent, then stifled a bemused laughter bubbling in his chest, because  _ holy shit _ , they were equally terrible - “maybe,” he answered, avoiding the pillow flying towards his head, arms wrapping around the other’s slender waist, and held Yuta close.


End file.
